


It's Not Weird

by AGirlNamedEd



Series: A Pair of Aces [1]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Other, in heaven's name what am I doing, take my computer away from me, this is the stupidest thing I have ever done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 10:57:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6702022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGirlNamedEd/pseuds/AGirlNamedEd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tien's little crush on Piccolo is completely and totally normal. Except it isn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Not Weird

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea why I thought this ship was a good idea but then OVER 4000 WORDS LATER

Everyone thought Piccolo was attractive.

Of course they did. Why wouldn’t they? He was tall, dark, and handsome, with a solid jawline and so much muscle definition. Sure, he was an alien, so his biology was…different. But his skin was a gorgeous shade of green, and it contrasted well with the pink on his arms and legs and stomach. He did his best to come across as cold and uncaring, but anyone who knew him even a little knew it was a front. He was good with kids, even if he hadn’t been at first. And the way his ears or antennae twitched when he was working hard to keep emotion off his face was downright endearing.

All of this was absolute fact. And that meant Tenshinhan’s little crush on Piccolo was totally normal and completely not weird at all.

“Dude,” Yamcha said, “it’s at _least_ a little weird.”

Tien groaned and buried his face in his hands. Fuck, that was exactly what he was afraid Yamcha would say.

“Of all the people you could’ve had a crush on,” Yamcha lamented, “you got one on _the ex-demon king_. I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“ _You_ had a crush on the CEO of Capsule Corp.” It was a low blow, and Tenshinhan knew it—they’d just broken for good up a few months ago—but he wasn’t just going to sit here and take Yamcha’s abuse.

Yamcha pointed at him. “To be fair, she wasn’t CEO at the time, and I actually had a chance with her.” He paused. “I blew it, but it was there. You and Piccolo? No way.”

“What,” Tenshinhan said dryly, “is he out of my league?”

“Don’t be stupid. Piccolo doesn’t _have_ a league. You ever see the weird looks he gives Goku and Chi-Chi when they’re acting all cute?”

“I’ve never even seen Goku and Chi-Chi ‘acting all cute.’”

“Good for you. There’s so much second-hand embarrassment going on there. I feel bad for Gohan. Anyway, she’ll be, like, attached to his arm like some kind of affectionate octopus, and Piccolo’ll be looking at her like she’s got two heads.” Yamcha shook his head. “He doesn’t ‘get’ the whole love and affection thing. Why would he? He’s an alien from a species that reproduces by puking eggs. There’s no way he’d go out with you, or anyone else.”

“I never said I wanted to go out with him,” Tien pointed out. “He’s attractive. That doesn’t mean I’m attracted _to_ him.”

Besides, there were androids to train for, so he pushed Piccolo to the back of his mind and pulled himself to his feet. “Breaktime’s over,” he informed Yamcha, dropping into a fighting stance. “Get up and fight me.”

~~~

Alright, so thinking Piccolo was attractive was weird. Fine. Tenshinhan had been attracted to stranger things. Probably. He frowned, distracted from his drills as he wracked his brain, trying to think of something or someone else he’d been attracted to before. Something weirder than, well, all of Piccolo.

There was Launch, of course, but she was fully human and mostly normal. Yes, there was the split personality thing, but really when compared to green skin (Tien wondered what it would feel like to run his hands over it), that was nothing. And that hadn’t worked out. So no.

He thought Yamcha was good-looking. He’d thought everyone did, but he’d thought that about Piccolo, too, and now his sense of perception was all off. Hell, if he thought about it, he thought most of his friends were good-looking. But the only one he’d ever really _noticed_ that he thought was attractive was Piccolo.

Ever since his conversation with Yamcha, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. (If he was being honest with himself—which he rarely was—he’d been thinking about it for a lot longer than that.) It didn’t help that he seemed to be spending time with Piccolo more and more often—training, searching for Cell—and noticing things. Small things, inconsequential things, like the way his entire being relaxed just a little when Gohan was in his line of sight. Or that he actually had kind of a nice laugh, and getting him to let one out felt like some sort of accomplishment. Or how he squinted at you when he was paying attention to you. (Tien’s stomach did weird things at that.)

He gave up on his drills entirely and perched on the steps leading to the door of the Hyperbolic Time Chamber. Piccolo would be almost done in there by now, then Vegeta would probably be dragging poor Trunks back in with him. Tenshinhan was antsy. He knew there was practically nothing he could do against Cell—his best hope was to be able to weaken him by having him waste his energy on him so Goku and Gohan could go to town on him. And even that probably wouldn’t work. But he wasn’t going to take death lying down. That wasn’t his way, never had been, and he’d be joining the others at the Cell Games all the same.

He picked at the soles of his shoes and watched Vegeta pace until Piccolo’s unmistakeable ki appeared. He looked up as Piccolo strode onto the Lookout. His appearance was much the same (certainly nowhere near the drastic changes to Goku and Gohan), but his ki was…different, somehow. Larger, stronger. Tien hoped it would be enough to stand up against Cell.

Piccolo looked down at him. Generally, his face was practically unreadable, but Tenshinhan watched at least four different emotions flash across it—relief, joy, confusion, annoyance—before settling into his usual scowl. He decided it was best not to ask and instead nodded up at him. “You’re back,” he said.

Piccolo gave him a nod and his mouth twisted into a smirk. “Long time no see.”

Tenshinhan shook his head, but smiled. One year in the Chamber was only a day outside, and Piccolo’s sense of humor still needed work. “How was—”

“Move,” Vegeta commanded, shoving past Piccolo. Trunks trailed behind him, giving Piccolo an apologetic look.

Piccolo shook his head. “Hopefully those two don’t kill each other by the end of their year.”

Tien stood and stretched. “Like I started to say before I was rudely interrupted, how was your training?”

“It went well.” Piccolo folded his arms. “I think it may have gone better if I hadn’t gone in alone, though. I’ve gotten so used to training with others that I had to resort to creating a duplicate to spar with.”

“Well, then you would’ve been stuck in there with someone for a year,” Tenshinhan pointed out. “Would you really want that?”

Instead of grimacing or shuddering and conceding the point like Tien expected, Piccolo looked thoughtful. “Depends on who it was. I wouldn’t mind Gohan, but I won’t deprive him of time with his family. Not now.” He shifted his weight and his eyes went distant for a moment, and Tien knew he was thinking about how much he’d already done that. Then he looked back at Tenshinhan and said “I wouldn’t have minded you, either.”

And there it was, the weird _thing_ his heart did when Piccolo said or did something like that. He swallowed and hoped his face wasn’t too red—he blushed so easily. “Thanks,” he said.

Piccolo nodded once, then turned and walked off. Tenshinhan twisted at the waist and went back to his drills.

~~~

“Mind if I join you?”

Piccolo’s response was a grunt, but it wasn’t a no, so Tien gingerly sat crosslegged next to him. He wasn’t a big fan of meditation as training—he preferred sparring and drills—but there was only so much of that a man could do. Besides, it seemed to work for Piccolo.

_At least you’re quiet._

Tien started and slammed his mental defenses shut. He’d started getting lax with them lately, forgetting that Chiaotzu wasn’t the only psychic in the group anymore. Piccolo cracked an eye open and looked down at him. “The hell was that?”

“I forgot you could do that,” he admitted, settling back into his lotus position. “And I don’t really like people other than Chiaotzu in my head.” It dragged up memories of a time he wasn’t proud of.

His other eye opened and he actually turned his head to look at Tien instead of just glancing out of the corner of his eye at him. “I didn’t know that. You have horrible defenses for someone who doesn’t want anyone poking around in his mind.”

“It’s not usually a problem. And most of the time I’m focused on strengthening my body. The mind is important, but I’ve always had Chiaotzu for that.”

Piccolo snorted. “I always suspected he was keeping your thoughts in your head. Most people practically think out loud, and whenever Chiaotzu’s not around you do the exact same thing.” He turned slightly more towards Tien, apparently abandoning his meditations altogether. “You really should get better at leaving your defenses up if it bothers you so much.”

Tenshinhan shrugged. “Like I said, it isn’t usually a problem.”

“No excuse. Here, let me.” He reached out and Tenshinhan flinched, immediately feeling ridiculous for it. But Piccolo didn’t _do_ physical contact. He hadn’t expected that. Piccolo chuckled, low and rumbling, and Tien felt heat blossom in his chest. “Relax,” and he smiled just wide enough that Tien could see his fangs, “I won’t bite.” He took Tenshinhan’s face in his hands, thumbs pressing gently against his temples, and stared intently into Tien’s eyes.

He could feel Piccolo’s mind pressing against his own, and he struggled to concentrate on keeping his mind closed off. It was hard, though, with how they were positioned—Piccolo kneeling over Tien, holding his face, eyes locked on each other. If anyone walking past saw them, they might’ve thought they were about to kiss. Tenshinhan forcefully sealed off anything that might have let that slip out. Piccolo was _not_ finding out about that even if he was _right there_ and it would be _so easy_ to just reach out and pull him those last few inches…

Piccolo suddenly released him and sat back. “Your defenses are alright when you actually bother to keep them up,” he said.

“Oh.” He had gotten all worked up for nothing. Of course he had. Why would Piccolo be interested in that? Of course he wouldn’t. Tenshinhan forced himself to breathe. “Thanks.” He started to stand. This was awkward, now, and it was getting harder and harder to convince himself he hadn’t actually fallen for Piccolo. “I’m just gonna go do some drills.”

A hand snapped out and snatched his wrist. “No. Stay here; meditate with me.” Even Piccolo looked surprised at the words coming out of his mouth. He released Tien and looked away. “If you want to, I mean. You could use the practise; your defenses are good, but not that good. If I really wanted to, I could break through that barrier with little to no effort, and I’m not even that powerful of a psychic.”

Gingerly, Tien settled back next to him. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”

“Oh I mind immensely. Between you and Gohan I can’t get anything done around here.” But it was said without a trace of malice, and Tien’s traitorous heart swelled at being put in the same category as Gohan, the one person he knew Piccolo cared about with everything he was. He chuckled, and Piccolo glanced at him with a smirk, and they meditated in comfortable silence for hours while Tien tried not to think too much about their knees brushing against each other.

~~~

Piccolo eyed him, and if he’d been anyone else Tien would have thought he was checking him out. But it was Piccolo, and his gaze held criticism and little else. “You’ve been slacking,” he declared.

Tien shrugged. “If you alien types can’t stand up to Cell, it doesn’t matter how much I train.”

“That’s no attitude to have.” Piccolo unfolded his arms and walked a few paces away, turning back to Tenshinhan and taking up a fighting stance. “Spar with me.”

Tenshinhan blinked. It wasn’t like he’d never trained with Piccolo before, but now it might cause problems. He clamped firmly down on his mental defenses—he didn’t think Piccolo would try to read his mind, not now, but after the meditation episode the day before he didn’t want to take any chances. Chiaotzu always told him that despite his mental barrier, he tended to let his thoughts run wild when he was anxious. And Piccolo definitely made him anxious. “Alright,” he said, walking to join him. “But don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

Piccolo smiled, and there was just enough Demon King to it to make Tien’s gut clench. “I was going to say the same thing.” And then he was rushing him and Tien dodged under his arm only to get kicked in the back and sent flying. He righted himself in midair and went swooping down at Piccolo, grabbing his outstretched arm and yanking, throwing him into a pillar.

His victory was short lived as Piccolo bounced back and charged him again, and then they were a flurry of kicks and punches and blows, always deflected, never actually connecting. But Tenshinhan was distracted by the sun on Piccolo’s face and one missed block later he was on the ground, nursing his jaw. To his surprise, instead of attacking, Piccolo knelt and grabbed him by the straps of his tank top, yanking him forward. Tien’s attention instantly went to cataloguing everything going on with both of them—Piccolo’s fingers brushing against his chest, how close they were, the warmth coming off Piccolo in waves, Tien’s heart hammering out of his chest and not from the sparring they were just doing—

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

The words were like a bucket of ice water, crashing over him and shocking him back to reality. His eyes snapped to Piccolo’s from where they were tracing the shape of his lips. They were scowling and stormy; gone was the teasing comradery from earlier. “You’re distracted, and it’s obvious. If you’re not going to take this seriously, then maybe I was wrong about you.”

Tenshinhan scowled right back and slammed the top of his head forward into Piccolo’s. Piccolo reeled back, but he didn’t let Tien go. “Asshole,” Tien spat, “I’m taking this just as seriously as you.”

“Then act like it! You’re the one I always thought personal issues wouldn’t bother during a fight. And here you are getting _distracted_!” He shook Tien. “You’re better than that and we both know it! What the hell could be distracting you so much that you can’t even concentrate during a fight?”

Tenshinhan stubbornly locked eyes with him. “You’re the psychic,” he said. “You figure it out.”

Piccolo looked taken aback at that and Tien regretted the words the moment they left his lips. He didn’t think Piccolo would actually take him up on that, not after yesterday. But he felt a gentle push at his mind. Tenshinhan swore internally. He was the one who’d brought it up, and now it would look weird to not let Piccolo in. He lowered his defenses just enough for Piccolo to see his thoughts—nothing else, not his memories, not his emotions, just his thoughts. Sweet Kami, this was going to end in disaster.

Neither spoke, neither moved. Tenshinhan tried to think of something to concentrate on besides how he felt about Piccolo, but things kept slipping through. He couldn’t tell if he was letting them through or if Piccolo was picking them out—he hadn’t lied the day before when he said he could easily see everything about Tien’s mind. He thought about how much he enjoyed spending time with Piccolo, whether they were sparring or talking or just sitting near one another. He thought about all the things he found endearing about him, how his ears twitched against his will sometimes, how he liked to act cool and aloof all the time but cared far deeper than he’d admit, even to himself. He thought about how he treated Gohan. He thought about the times he’d looked Piccolo over, trying in vain to figure out how he felt about him, but knowing that he was the most attractive person he knew and if he were out of his life he’d never get over it, and oh god there were a lot more feelings there than Tien had realized, he’d fallen badly for Piccolo a while ago and here he was letting him into his head while he figured that out and Piccolo was going to kill him and he’d _fallen in love with the goddamn ex-demon king_ —

Piccolo’s eyes went wide and a furious blush flamed across his face. His grip on Tien’s shirt slackened. “You—” he started, but just then Goku teleported in and they scrambled apart, blushing and not looking at one another like they’d just been caught doing something dirty.

~~~

Chiaotzu cried when Tenshinhan told him what happened. He was honestly a little surprised he hadn’t cried before now. There was a gaping Goku-shaped hole in his life and he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. Where was he supposed to go from here? Where were any of them supposed to go?

When he left the Lookout for the last time, he knew he wasn’t going to see the rest of them again, Piccolo in particular. He couldn’t truly move on from all of this if he did. He was going to put all of that behind him, train forever, and never look back. It was the best way—the only way.

Chiaotzu disagreed. “Tien, we can’t just cut everyone out like that. They’re our friends!”

“Do you want to see Goku’s eyes looking back at you every time you talk to Gohan?”

He faltered. They agreed not to talk about it anymore.

~~~

This part of the woods was good for training. It was quiet, few predators lived here, and there was a river for fishing and a waterfall to meditate under. Tien had quickly lost track of how much time had passed between now and the Cell Games—it was so easy to, living off the land as far removed from civilization as one could get. He still thought about everyone else sometimes, particularly Yamcha and Piccolo. Yamcha had been his best friend aside from Chiaotzu, and Piccolo…

No, he wasn’t thinking about Piccolo. Tien had mostly convinced himself that his crush on him had been nothing more than that—a silly crush that he would get over. Eventually. Just like he’d eventually get over Goku’s death.

Neither had happened yet, though.

Funnily enough, he was healing over Goku’s death faster than he’d thought he would. It had been Goku’s decision, and he was content with it, and that helped. Piccolo, on the other hand, was more difficult, as he usually was. Tenshinhan still couldn’t get the memories of his last interactions with him to leave him alone. Of particular interest was the memory of his “confession,” such as it was. How close they’d been to each other, how surprisingly warm Piccolo was, Piccolo’s knuckles dragging against Tien’s skin as he pulled him forward by his shirt. It would’ve been so easy to lean forward and press their lips—

NO. Tien slapped himself in the face hard enough to break a weaker man’s jaw. Chiaotzu stirred a little where he was sleeping nearby, but didn’t wake. Tien sat with his face buried in his bent knees and tried not to scream. He was _over_ this, or at least he was _going_ to get over it, because _he could not be in love with Piccolo_. Yamcha was right; Piccolo wasn’t interested not just in Tien but in anyone. Being in love with him was going to cause nothing but pain, even if it was nice to picture them together, holding hands, sparring, sitting together, meditating together, kissing, touching, pressing closer, grabbing—

Launching himself off the ground, Tenshinhan sprinted through the woods. He had no idea where he was going; it wasn’t like he could outrun his thoughts or feelings. But he had to do _something_ besides sit and let his thoughts consume him.

Not for the first time, he felt a tiny tinge of regret for cutting ties with everyone so easily—what he wouldn’t give to be able to talk to Yamcha or even Bulma about this. Chiaotzu was out of the question. Best friend and sworn brother he may be, but there was no way he was bringing things like this up in casual conversation after a training session. “So, Chiaotzu, let’s say theoretically that I want Piccolo to jam his tongue down my throat. How do you think I should deal with that?”

At best he’d be sparring by himself for a week. He remembered what had happened when he asked Chiaotzu for advice about Launch all too well.

Going for a late-night run had only sort of helped. Tien tried to focus on the run—where he was going, the burn in his legs and lungs—but while running offered a different challenge than flying or training, it wasn’t enough of a distraction. It was still too familiar. So his brain helpfully conjured up images of him and Piccolo together, and the more he tried to push them away the more insistent they became. He pictured them meditating back to back. Piccolo carefully gripping his hand when he thought no one else would notice. Clutching Piccolo around the shoulders—and Piccolo actually allowing it. Kissing him _everywhere_ —lips, face, neck, ears, chest, Piccolo blushing purple at all the attention.

He’d stopped paying attention to where he was going and ran smack into a tree. Reeling, he stumbled backwards, bumping into something else.

“About time you noticed I was here” said the something else.

Tenshinhan whirled to find himself chest to chest with Piccolo, cape and turban and all. He swallowed. “How—you—what—I didn’t realize you were there,” he said, trying to back up and put some space between them. How much of that internal conflict had Piccolo heard? He hadn’t kept his defenses up—he hadn’t thought anyone else was around—and it was definitely about to come back to bite him in the ass.

Piccolo grabbed him by the wrist before he could get too far. “You of all people know how easily people like us can hide our energy.” His grip was firm, but Tien could break it with minimal effort if he really wanted to. He didn’t. “You must, uh.” Piccolo glanced away, then back. “You must really like me, to pull one of my favourite tactics.”

Tien blinked at him. “What?” He’d never used any of Piccolo’s techniques that he knew of, certainly none of his flashier, more well-known ones like the Special Beam Cannon or Hellzone Grenade. General kicking, punching, flying, that was second nature for both of them at this point.

He looked away again, clearing his throat. “You know. The one where I leave as soon as a situation becomes uncomfortable.”

Oh Kami Tenshinhan knew exactly what he was talking about. “I didn’t mean to,” he said, which was total bullshit and they both knew it.

“Bullshit.” Tien wished he wasn’t right all the time. “You certainly gave me…a lot to think about.” Piccolo kept pausing and looking away and his grip on Tien’s wrist tightened. He drew in a deep breath. “You let me see your mind,” he finally said. “I should like you to see mine.”

And Tien’s brain had clearly stopped working because this wasn’t happening. Because this sounded a lot like reciprocation, which he had just clearly established _would not happen_. But with his limited telepathy, he reached out to Piccolo’s mind.

Telepathy was never something Tenshinhan had excelled at. He could do it, sure, with Chiaotzu and Tsuru-senin and sometimes others. But he hardly ever used it, and the idea of someone prying into his mind without permission was frankly sort of terrifying, particularly for a would-be assassin, so most of his mental training had gone into shielding his mind once he’d mastered the basics of telepathy. But he was still proficient enough to see into Piccolo’s surprisingly unguarded mind.

Piccolo thought mostly in images and concepts. Now he was showing Tenshinhan images from their shared past, particularly memories that involved Piccolo enjoying himself and being confused about it. Here they were chatting on the Lookout, Piccolo knowing his left ear was twitching and belying his internal conflict but not knowing what to do about it. There they were sparring and Piccolo had noticed Tien looking at him (Tien’s face flushed, was he really that obvious?) and he _liked_ it. Tien felt, rather than watched in Piccolo’s mind, Piccolo’s internal conflict when he first saw Tenshinhan after coming out of the Time Chamber—relief at being finished, joy at seeing Tien again, confusion at his joy, annoyance at not being able to figure out his own thought process.

And then there were the days following Cell’s defeat, where Piccolo paced the Lookout irritably—more irritably than usual—waiting for Tien to come back. He always did, Piccolo reasoned, just like Piccolo himself always did, no matter what either of them said about final goodbyes. Because around the same time as Tenshihan figured out his feelings for Piccolo, Piccolo realized he had the opportunity to kiss him. And he’d wanted to take it.

“Except you stayed away,” Piccolo said aloud. Tien flinched. He’d gotten so absorbed in Piccolo’s memories he almost forgot about the real world. “And if I were anyone else, I would’ve said I missed my chance.” Tien swallowed and tentatively reached out to take Piccolo’s other hand. Piccolo faltered when Tien intertwined their fingers. “But, you, uh, I. I found you. So.”

“Piccolo,” Tenshinhan said, “shut up.” Leaning forward and rising onto his toes just a bit, he kissed him.

Neither of them had much kissing experience, so it was rather stiff and awkward, but after a moment Piccolo allowed himself to relax, releasing Tien’s wrist to rest his hand on Tien’s hip instead. His lips were soft and gentle and _warm_ and Tien only pulled away because he realized he’d forgotten to breathe.

Piccolo’s chest heaved and it was gratifying to know he’d enjoyed himself as much as Tenshinhan had, if his flushed face and small, somewhat befuddled smile were anything to go by. Tien threw both arms around Piccolo’s neck and clutched him to him. After a moment, Piccolo’s hands gently rested on the small of Tien’s back.

_Finally._


End file.
